“I’ve seen a woman in my bathroom and a man in the kitchen. I feel like I’m going crazy here. Maybe it’s a symptom of hitting my head too hard in the car wreck? I don’t know.” I huff, frustrated. “But there’s something paranormal going on.”
Merelyn glances away.
“I’m sorry, dear. I don’t know what to say or do to help. There’s no other man but Gavin here. I haven’t seen any ghosts...” She shrugs, trailing off, looking genuinely concerned for me.
“But Coraline?” she blurts before I can get a chance to finish. I noticed she’s dodging questions and information, but I don’t press. I think she’s shared more than enough, and I don’t want to step on her toes.
“Yes?” My pitch heightens calmly.
“Don’t ever go back into the basement.” She says it like it’s a threat—a stern order—a non-negotiable demand.
She closes the door, leaving me with more unanswered questions.
Maybe I’m reading way too much into it, but I still think the serial killer question is essential.
Why did he target his parents? What if he’s still around? Or what if the person who ran me off the road is actually a serial killer copycat?
No…that’s unbelievable.
It can’t be.
Closing my eyes, I run both of my hands through my hair, trying to make sense of all of this. That same freezing draft from when the basement window was open brushes against my skin. But I know it’s not that because I closed it.
I swipe at my forehead as I break out into a cold sweat. I hold onto my arms as I look around the living room, surveying the leather couch, the fireplace, and lastly the kitchen, but nothing is out of the ordinary. Nothing and no one. No fluttering streaks of figures. No woman with long black hair.
And suddenly, that same feeling of being watched is back, and I know I’m not alone. The most pressing question is…is it a person with a beating heart, or a disappearing phantom lurking?
The sound of a loud boom tightens my chest. I scream, whipping my head toward the origin. My whole body tightens, then loosens, once I see it’s not athreat. It’s Gavin. I’m safe.
“You scared me!” I scold him.
He locks the door behind him and stares at me like I’m a lunatic. He stands in the corner of the living room, with his cowboy hat and boots, and shrugs off his coat. Then smiles.
“Let’s play a game, sweetheart.”
“Truth or dare?”He hands me a bottle of tequila as Ella Langley plays softly on his radio. We’re both sitting across from each other, taking shots straight from the bottle. It stopped burning after the first three takes. I’m buzzing, feeling loose. I’m not a drinker, but when Gavin offered, I didn’t hesitate.
I smile.
“Truth.”
“I want to see you naked.”
I tilt my head to the side with a smirk.
“You’re joking.” I scoff out a laugh, but his face is colder than ice. “Well, that was bold of you, honest, and bold.” I shiver. “I’m not getting naked. I’m?—”
“Married,” he clips with a deep tone.
I can’t handle it when Gavin stares at me the way someone stares at a shooting star—captivation and admiration glimmer in his expression. He’s watching me, without even blinking. Even when he lifts the bottle to his lips again, he doesn’t blink, as if he doesn’t want to miss one moment. I brush my hair behind my ears. A man like Gavin couldn’t possibly be into me. Men like him have ladies throwing themselves at him, but something about Gavin tells me he’s different.
“And that’s not ‘a truth’.It’s a dare. You’re playing this wrong.” His hand springs forward, like he’s motioning me to stop talking.
“It’s a truth, sweetheart. I said, I want to see you naked. No. Not your body. Show me your soul. Your fears. Your joys. Yourambition. The darkness you’re ashamed of and the sins you try to run away from.”
The fire crackles grow louder, matching my flustered blood bumping in my ears. I was not expecting him to say that.
“So, I’m going to ask again. Let me see you naked, Cora. I want the real you. If that’s the last thing I receive before you leave this cabin, I want to see the true you, not the woman masking her pain. I’ve caught sight of her before, but now I want to see every other version of you.”
